Columns

2008.07.10 All's well that ends in flowers

on . Posted in Midnight Musings

By COLLEEN LEDDY

In the middle of Rozee’s wedding, that saying, “It takes a village to raise a child,” popped into my head. Surrounded by all the people who love her and Taylor, and thinking about all the people who were with them in spirit, it occurred to me that it also takes a village to make that child’s wedding a glorious affair.

From cake to cleanup, so many of our friends and family played a role in making Rozee’s wedding and reception a wonderful beautiful event. But it’s probably the flowers that exemplify the generous loving nature of so many people.

Following my column two weeks ago about the foibles and follies of obtaining florist-less flowers and the wicked ways of the weather, we received many offers of hosta leaves.

We didn’t need to take anybody up on those offers but it was heartwarming to know people were thinking of us and could help if needed.

It would have been a lot easier to call a florist and order flower arrangements, but I can’t believe they could have been more beautiful than what our friend Catherine created out of flowers from her and several other backyard gardens.

Taking the unconventional route—with flowers, with wedding cake—was like taking the back roads instead of the main highway—it might take longer, but you are rewarded with beautiful scenery and unexpected pleasures.

We had no idea Catherine was so talented at flower arranging, no idea such spectacular arrangements would be created by garden flowers. I thought we would end up using my motley hollyhocks for the big vases (borrowed by Liz Stella) intended for church arrangements, but instead, Deby’s goatsbeard and oak leaf hydrangea, combined with Catherine’s  coral bells and snapdragons, and Jim Johnson’s Asiatic lilies and yarrow, along with many other of their flowers made the most amazing displays.

Jim sells flowers at the Adrian Farmer’s Market and his involvement in the flower story is a long one that begins with the generosity of retired dentist Dick Youngs who woke me up one Saturday morning calling from the Farmer’s Market to say he’d read my column about the flowers and I needed to go to Jim’s place to pick out flowers for Rozee’s wedding.

“Rozee has to have flowers!” he said.

And, boy, did Rozee have flowers!

In addition to Catherine’s, Deby’s and Jim’s flowers, our friend Kathy delivered buckets and buckets of godetia and other beautiful flowers and greenery to be used for the guest table vases.

Dot Dister arranged those vases (many borrowed from Mary Ferris) assisted by my sister Linda and my Aunt Mary. Pat and Bob Dister kindly offered the kitchen of Little People’s Place to arrange all the flowers.

And then there were the 60 pots of purple petunias delivered to my porch by Drew Stella because they were otherwise headed for the compost pile. They were deadheaded and trimmed by Deby, Liz and my niece Vicky and lined the inside and outside of the church.

Even the rose petals the precious flower girl tossed from her basket involved local people as Maddie and Ben and his finacée, Sarah, deadheaded roses from Neree Emmons’ incredible rose gardens.

We probably didn’t have to order the lisianthus that arrived overnight from an organic grower in California—but after the hailstorm, Rozee and I both needed assurance and insurance that there would at least be flowers for the bridal bouquets.

Her friends Siera and Mo saved the day by creating those bouquets, rescuing them from my and David’s bumbling fingers.

I am bone-tired from this wedding, the kind of fatigue that only a woman who’s been pregnant can relate to, the kind of all-pervasive fatigue that pushes you down on the couch in the middle of the day and demands you stay there until slightly restored.

All I can say is, I sure am glad Maddie was kidding when she ended her maid of honor speech by saying, “By the way, Mom and Dad, since Rozee’s getting married tonight and Ben’s getting married next month, I just wanted to let you know that I will be getting married this September.”

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